


Saved: Reprise

by ashes0909, FestiveFerret



Series: Held [64]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comfort, Dom/sub, Feelings, M/M, Painplay, Safewords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-30 22:52:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15761355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: He knew Steve wanted him to go harder, to make sure he felt Tony’s marks long after they finished their scene, and he wanted to give that to him, be the one that could take him to levels of pleasure and peace he couldn’t access any other way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a three-parter that we'll get out very quickly! :D

Another sigh filled the room, and Tony looked up from his tablet to see Steve hunched even lower over his stack of paperwork. If anything, the stack looked larger than it had half an hour ago. "Steve?" Tony asked.

Steve groaned and dropped his head on top of the stack of paper, and Tony pushed up out of his chair immediately. SHIELD had changed some of their regulatory standards, and as team leader, getting everything up to snuff was turning into a huge headache for Steve. Tony crossed the room and leaned one hip against the desk, reaching out to run his fingers through Steve's hair. Steve hummed with pleasure and tipped to the side to rest his head against Tony's stomach instead. 

"You okay, love?"

Steve half-shrugged. "I'm just tired. All the words are starting to run together on the page."

Tony's other hand joined in in petting over Steve's scalp. "Leave it for tonight. You've been working for a while now. Let's watch a movie, or have sex, or mix together all the ice cream flavours in the freezer and see if it makes us go blind."

Steve chuckled, vibrating against Tony's stomach. He turned and nuzzled in, breathing hot, wet air over Tony's belly button, through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I tried to take a break, but I couldn't relax. Every time I set this aside, all I can think about is how much work I have to do. I know I can't finish it tonight but… I can't seem to let it go."

"How can I help?"

Steve tipped his chin up and met Tony's gaze. He looked tired, and it made Tony want to burn all of Steve's work and run away with him to his private island. "Get me floating?" Steve asked, hesitant enough that Tony resisted the urge to  _ tsk  _ at him for thinking he couldn't ask.

"Of course." Tony let his fingers scrape a little harder as he combed Steve's hair back from his face. "Anything in particular?"

Steve's jaw set. "Pain. Please."

Tony frowned at him, trying to push past Steve's expression and read what was in his mind. "You're not -?"

"It's not a punishment," Steve said carefully, "for not finishing my work. That's not it. I just… I need to be gone from my head and that always gets me there fast."

"Okay." Tony petted him soothingly. "We can do that." He let a little command slip into his voice. "Take off your clothes, count to eighty-two, and meet me in the bedroom."

Steve smiled up at him, so adoringly, Tony's heart skipped several crucial-feeling beats. "Eighty-two, huh?"

"There are very important and scientific reasons why I chose that number, I'll have you know."

"I'll bet."

"Don't get sassy now…" Tony dropped his voice low and leaned in, pulling Steve's head to the side so he could breathe against the shell of his ear. "...or it _ will  _ be a punishment." He revelled in the full body shudder that was his reward then walked away, into the bedroom.

Tony pawed through their closet of toys for a while before settling on one of the thinner "whippier" canes they had. They hadn't used it much, but when they had, it left red marks that lasted hours on Steve's skin - a miracle - and Tony was pretty sure he could draw blood with it. Steve had asked for pain, and that meant something. Steve wanted pain; Tony would give it to him.

Tony set it near the bed then stripped out of all his clothes except for his undershirt and jeans. He dug his bare toes in the carpet, grounding himself. Either he'd been absorbing Steve's energy too much during the day, or whatever was eating him was in the air. Tony felt a bit off-kilter too, a little grumpy. But watching Steve fall apart under his hands was a guaranteed cure for the blues. 

He hadn't been counting, but shortly after a minute had passed, the door clicked open and Steve appeared, glorious in his nakedness. Tony opened the top drawer of their bedside table and took out Steve's collar. He crooked a finger, and Steve came to stand in front of him, his eyes already starting to soften as he gave himself over to Tony. So beautiful…

Tony stroked his thumb along Steve's cheek then slipped the collar around his neck and clicked it closed. "You're going to be good for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, Tony," Steve murmured, his tongue sounding heavy. 

"I know you will be. Kneel at the end of the bed, spread your legs wide, and fold your arms over the ottoman."

Steve rushed to comply, all but falling to his knees. He spread his legs, tucked up tight against the ottoman, then put his arms on top, looking to Tony to see if he had it right. Tony nitpicked, poking and prodding until he was in exactly the position he wanted. Then he pressed the back of Steve's head until his face tucked down on his folded arms. His bare back was a long, stretched out canvas, waiting for Tony to paint on it.

Tony picked up the cane and twirled the end between his fingers. "What's your safeword, gorgeous?"

"Colonel," Steve muttered, slightly obscured by the ottoman. 

"Good boy." He flicked the end of the cane just under Steve's shoulder blade, not hard enough to mark, but startling enough that Steve gasped and flinched. Tony knew Steve wasn’t fully under yet, but a few more strikes, and he would be on his way. He brought the cane down again, this time in a long line across the right side of his back.

Steve moaned but didn’t move an inch, laid out and waiting for Tony’s next strike even while, between one breath and the next, the mark faded from his back. Tony brought another down on his left side, followed quickly by three more lines crossing into the first. Tony knew Steve wanted to feel pain, that he knew Tony was there, willing and wanting to give his lover everything that he could. 

But even still, the line faded before he finished his subsequent blows, and when Tony checked in on Steve, his reply was too steady, too aware, not yet in that floating abyss Steve loved and Tony loved to bring him to.

He brought the cane down into another series of strikes, each one harder than before, making Steve’s moans turn into sharp inhales of breath until finally he slumped on the ottoman with his mouth parted, panting, with glossy eyes.

It was a new toy, a new kind of pain; Tony felt the urge to check in again. “Safeword?” 

“Colonel,” Steve breathed.

“More, my love?”

“Yes.” Steve’s back was clear again, the bare skin looking as if Tony had barely touched it. He knew Steve wanted him to go harder, to make sure he felt Tony’s marks long after they finished their scene, and he wanted to give that to him, be the one that could take him to levels of pleasure and peace he couldn’t access any other way. 

Tony brought the cane down in a fever of strikes, each one harder than the next, his entire focus fixed on bringing Steve to the place he yearned to go, where all there was was Tony and the pain-pleasure he was able to give Steve. Another and another strike, with Steve moaning and gasping and silently crying out with each landing blow.

He needed to move faster than Steve could heal, make the man who was engineered to be the perfect soldier experience the white-out pleasure that his cane could provide. Another strike and another, until Tony froze with his cane high in the air. Steve ground his face into his folded arms and whined. 

Steve’s back was a flurry of lines, mangled and red, blood beading up along the breaks in the skin. Tony’s marks. Tony’s Steve. “How--” Tony swallowed unable to tear his eyes from Steve’s back, before beginning again. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Tony,” Steve moaned, as if that was enough of an answer. And he sounded like he was floating high, lost under Tony’s cane, but Tony needed to hear from Steve that he was alright. He dropped his voice low with command. “Answer me.” 

“Good, so good, more, more,” he repeated his plea, beautiful begging that Tony always loved to hear. 

Tony’s pulse was racing, and he took a moment to inspect the marks on Steve’s back that were starting to heal, but not nearly as quickly as they had before. Tony wanted to give his sub everything, provide him the world and all its pleasures, and it was a battle between the serum and his blows. He'd have to strike harder to give Steve what he really needed; Tony brought the cane down again. 

Steve gasped when the tip hit broken skin, his hips thrusting into the ottoman. Tony could tell he was fully under now - his good boy - and that was good, that was the goal - Steve in pleasure and as far under as Tony could bring him. But Tony’s pulse was still racing and when he lifted his arm to gain momentum for another strike, another bit broken of skin split apart and Tony found himself frozen, watching a bead of blood spill over and drip down his spine.  "What - Tell me your safeword," Tony said again, the words having to crawl out of his tightening throat.

"Coln'l-" Steve slurred, hardly a word at all. 

"I -" Tony's heart pounded in his chest, the cane a hundred pounds in his hand. He couldn't stop looking at the pattern of marks across Steve's back, usually so beautiful, but there was something  _ wrong  _ this time. Had - had Steve been saying his safeword? Tony had asked him so many times, maybe he didn't give him time to say it for real? "Steve?"

_ "Nuh?" _ Steve shifted but didn't look up, slumped as he was on the carpet.

"I - uh." Tony sucked in a breath hard enough to burn, and Steve's face finally appeared, twisting up from his folded arms to peer at Tony. Drool was smeared across his cheek and his eyes were glassy.

"Tony?"

"I -" This was wrong, something was wrong, he'd done something wrong. The room spun. "Steve - I -  _ Colonel,"  _ Tony gasped out. The cane slipped from his fingers and hit the floor.

Steve was off his knees in a heartbeat.


	2. Chapter 2

_ "Colonel,"  _ Tony gasped, and Steve's whole word tilted on its axis.

He didn't even realize he was moving until he was already on his feet and stumbling to a stop in front of Tony. Tony's face was pale and pinched and he was staring at Steve's chest with a slightly stunned look on his face. 

"Tony, _ Tony." _ Steve's hands hovered uselessly between them, not knowing if it was okay to touch. He didn't know what it meant for  _ Tony  _ to use their safeword. That - Tony was in charge, why would he need to? "Tony, sweetheart, what happened? Please tell me."

"I'm sorry." Tony's eyes finally snapped up and met Steve's. His voice was unsteady. "I'm so sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. Come here." Tony opened his arms, and Steve all but collapsed into them, holding Tony close. 

"What's wrong?"

"Can I - just - Can I have a minute? Sorry, I need to, like, breathe and stuff."

"Of course." Steve swallowed back the urge to apologize, knowing it would likely upset Tony. But he was still a little loopy from the cane and the deep, easy floating was threatening to suck him down again.

Tony's hand slipped up to his neck, rested on his collar. "Can I?"

Steve wasn't sure he wanted to be that untethered, but he recognized the need to swim back up to the surface, and taking the collar off would help. "Okay."

Tony popped the clasp and tossed the collar aside, onto the bed. He pressed a kiss to Steve's throat, and Steve felt himself start to level out. He gripped Tony's waist tighter, burrowing his face in his neck. Adrenaline pumped hot through his veins, at war with the floaty endorphins he'd been high on mere moments ago.

"I'm sorry," Tony whispered again, shakily.

"Don't be sorry." Steve resisted the urge to fall to his knees. He was confused, but he didn't know if it was okay to ask Tony what was wrong. "Did I -?"

"Don't you dare," Tony said firmly. "Wasn't you. It was me. Here." Tony led Steve over to the bed. Tony sat down on the edge, then eased Steve down to his knees between his legs. Steve settled in - he felt safe there - and leaned his cheek against the inside of Tony's thigh. Tony started petting through his hair again, slowly, softly. "You're okay, right?"

Steve nodded. "I'm okay. I'm just confused."

"I know. One minute." Tony sat there for a while, seemingly staring off into space. "No, okay, I actually - yeah - I need to see that you're okay. Up you get." 

Steve stood, a little unsteadily since he'd just started to sink under again, and turned around when Tony gestured. Tony's fingers ran softly over his back, igniting little fireworks of toe-curling pain. A moan slipped free, and Tony's fingers stilled.

"You really like that, don't you?"

Steve nodded again. "I like - I like the pain and I like your hands. I like knowing you've got me."

Tony made a strange choked noise, and Steve turned back around. Tony was staring at him, pain twisting his brow. "You're a superhuman," Tony finally managed to get out, the words sounding like a herculean effort. "Your pain tolerance is like - off the charts. Crazy." Tony reached out again, and Steve slipped to his knees once more, tucking his cheek into Tony's palm. "You're not the first person I've done this with, I know you know that, but you're the only super soldier, so yeah - look, there's no… There's one rule," Tony seemed to start over. "One rule you don't fuck with unless you've really seriously agreed to it beforehand. Hurt, don't damage. You want pain - cool, good, awesome, super hot. But I'll never damage you. Except, what would damage a normal human doesn't even register on your scale. Good pain for you would put me in the hospital."

"Tony, I -" Tony shushed him sharply, and Steve cut off.

"I looked at you and felt the power I was putting behind those swings, and suddenly you were that normal human, and I was damaging you. I - well, I had a panic attack." Tony chucked self-deprecatingly, and petted his shaky hand to the back of Steve's neck.

Steve's stomach dropped down into his thighs, the high from before completely obliterated. Tony didn't like it. He'd asked for pain, and it upset Tony, but he did it anyway, for him.  _ All this time - _ his breath caught in his throat rough and ragged, and he choked on it.

"Oh shit." Tony's hand clenched in his hair then released. "First, I have a panic attack, and then I give you one. Look at me, sweetheart." Steve dragged his eyes up from the carpet. "Whatever you're thinking, stop."

"You've been doing this all for me?" Steve managed to get out. "It scares you. You were  _ scared.  _ I don't care how much I like it Tony, that's not worth it!"

"No, no, no. Ah, fuck." Tony ran a stiff hand through his hair, tugging Steve even closer with the other. "I didn't explain it right. Normally, it's fine - it's good,  _ great, even.  _ Watching you fall apart, knowing it's for me, from my hand, there's nothing like that Steve. Sometimes I'm worried I'm going to come in my pants from your moans alone, and I've gotta be pushing forty at least, by now, so that's quite the feat."

A laugh startled its way out of Steve's chest, and he wrapped his hand around Tony's ankle. "Something around there."

"Forty-one at the max." Tony smiled down at him. "But you make me feel like a horny teenager. I love what we do together, every minute, and that's why, when I stopped loving it, I said something, I safeworded out. This wasn't a breaking point, Steve. This was a fluke. Something I saw today, or read, or just my messed up brain, I don't know. It just wasn't right. And you are so, so right and what we do together is so, so right that I couldn't bear to have it be wrong, not even once."

Steve let out a shaky breath, his blood a cocktail of confusing chemicals, emotions warring for space in his mind, in his expression. "It wasn't something I did?" Steve asked in a tiny voice. "You can tell me. I just want to know."

"It wasn't you," Tony assured him, tipping his chin up so their eyes met. He bent and pressed a kiss to Steve's lips. "Never you. I love you so much. You're perfect. Always so good for me. You were so good for me, Steve. It was beautiful."

The praise flushed through him, chasing away everything else, and he sunk into Tony's hold, tucked tightly between his legs. The safest place in the world. "I love you. If you needed to stop, I'm - I'm glad you said something."

"Uh -"

"Yeah?"

"Can I be mildly obsessive and ask to check your back again?"

Steve twisted around without a word, arching his neck down so Tony could run his fingers delicately over his back, checking the wounds.

"They're already healing," Tony muttered, clearly speaking only to himself. "You're okay."

Steve turned back around. "I'm okay. Really. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

Tony hummed affectionately. "And you want it to hurt, don't you, baby?"

"Mhm." Steve nuzzled into the crease of Tony's hip, pressing his cheek against his warm stomach. "But it doesn't need to. This is perfect, too. I'd like to stay here for a while, if that's okay?"

"Of course. You stay right here…" Tony's fingers carded through Steve's hair over and over until the room turned soft and hazy, and all Steve had was his own breathing and Tony's steady, solid warmth all around him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you like this last part. Thanks for reading!

Tony combed his fingers over Steve's scalp, watching him sink deeper and deeper on the floor between Tony's parted knees. Tony's heart finally no longer felt like it was slamming against the arc reactor with every beat. He'd never panicked like that, been hit so hard with the yips, but then again, he'd never been with anyone like Steve before - never loved anyone this much. And for all his impressive strength, there was no way Steve was undamageable. Of course he could be really hurt. Falling out of the helicarrier and nearly drowning had put him in the hospital. It was possible.

Tony would  _never_ be the cause. Ever.

"I think I need to see your face…" he mused out loud.

Steve lifted his chin a little, eyelids heavy, a soft, dopey smile plastered across his face. "Hmm?"

"When we play like that. I need to be able to see your face. To make sure you're okay. I just chose a bad position, especially for experimenting with a relatively new toy. Next time, I want to see your gorgeous face, that's all."

Steve hummed again. He nuzzled closer. "See my face? Like this?" He burrowed into Tony's crotch, lifting his eyes so their gazes locked. His breath was hot and wet against Tony's cock, and it was starting to sit up and take notice.

"Yeah, baby, just like that."

Steve's eyes drooped shut at the praise then fluttered open again. He gazed up adoringly at Tony through long lashes, and Tony's fingers clenched in his hair, tugging a little. When that earned him a moan, he tugged again.

Tony dropped his other hand to his button and caught Steve's eye again. "You up for this?"

"Yes. Yes please. Want to taste you." Steve opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, a show of how good he could be.

"Okay, sweetheart. You're so good. I'll give you what you want." He tugged open his pants and worked his cock free, presenting it to Steve who snuck out his tongue to lick the tip before parting his lips and taking every inch Tony gave him. Tony sunk into him until his cock hit the back of Steve’s throat making Steve moan, a gorgeous, muffled sound. Steve was so willing, so greedy for whatever Tony wanted to give him, that it made Tony's hand tighten in Steve’s hair, pull it harder.

Through the haze of arousal, he saw Steve’s hand twitch at his side, but he knew Steve wouldn’t touch himself, not unless Tony told him to. His pleasure was in Tony’s control, only he could decide what it was Steve needed - and he knew how to take care of him. “I want you to touch yourself. Stroke down when I drag your mouth down my cock and up when I pull you back. Suck harder if you understand.”

Steve sucked, his cheeks hollowing around Tony’s cock and another moan vibrating against it.

“Good boy,” Tony whispered, rough. He kept his grip firm and still in Steve’s hair, watching until Steve's hand wrapped around his own cock, poised and waiting for Tony to move.

He pulled at the strands but didn’t move Steve’s head, and Steve kept his hand still even as his back arched from the sparks of pain Tony must be igniting along his scalp with every tug. Tony’s cock twitched at the expression on Steve’s face, pure pleasure and anticipation, and the hot suction of his mouth. He could take Steve apart or leave him right here on the edge of pleasure, and Steve looked like he would enjoy every second. “You love it, being under my hand, your greedy little noises every time I pull.” Tony dragged Steve’s face forward until his cock was hitting the back of Steve’s throat again

Before Steve could adjust, Tony pushed Steve away again so that just the tip remained in his mouth. Tony set a brutal rhythm, up and down, the messy, slick sounds of Steve’s rough strokes only spurring him on, making his cock throb and harden in Steve’s mouth. “You take it so well, anything I give you. I love it--” his fingers clenched, wanting to hear the muffled moan he knew would follow “--taking you apart. Look how beautiful you are for me. I’m going to come soon. I want you to grip that cock of yours hard, Steve, just as hard as I’m gripping your hair.” Another series of vibrations ran up his cock as Steve made more muffled noises of pleasure. Tony squeezed Steve's hair even harder, knowing Steve was doing the same around his own cock. “I’m here babe, taking you apart, giving you the pain you need. Oh yeah--” He was ruthless then, at the edge of orgasm.

"Come with me, baby," he groaned with the last of his breath. He pulled Steve’s face down hard, until he was coming deep down Steve’s throat and all of Steve’s wild noises were silenced by wave after wave of Tony’s blinding orgasm.

Tony didn’t release Steve’s hair, even after pulling him off of his cock, and Steve obediently kept his come-covered hand wrapped around his softening cock. Tony watched him gasp, chest heaving, as spit and come dripped down his chin. “My good boy,” Tony whispered, knowing the praise would affect Steve in this state but still unprepared for the brightness of his smile.

“You make me feel so good, Tony.” He looked up at him with wide eyes, foggy with pleasure. “Always.”

Relief flushed through Tony and mixed with the happy post-orgasm glow. All he wanted was to make Steve happy, get him out of his head, give him some relief from life, and the thought that he might not be able to had terrified him. But here Steve was, happy, floating, peaceful. He'd found a way. “Yeah, baby," Tony whispered, brushing the pad of his thumb over Steve's swollen lips. "Always.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on tumblr at festiveferret.tumblr.com and ashes0909.tumblr.com <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can bug us on tumblr at ashes0909.tumblr.com and festiveferret.tumblr.com. <3


End file.
